


Dead Grass and Neck Cuddles

by mickyy



Series: oh how things have changed [6]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: 2:50 am aka time to post another fic, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, but like, from Tartarus, i am Not an expert in ptsd okay, increase in powers, literally just wrote this, no beta we die like jason grace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27682037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickyy/pseuds/mickyy
Summary: "Grass isn't immortal," and other pearls of wisdom.Authored by Will Solace, Forward by Nico di Angelo."I loved the part about me." — Tartarus, ancient Greek primordial of the Pit.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Series: oh how things have changed [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585741
Kudos: 69





	Dead Grass and Neck Cuddles

Will told him to stop shadow-traveling because he’d been drained. Which was totally true, but it was because his powers were growing that he was drained and not dead. After only a few months of recovery, Nico was as good as new. A few more months after that and Nico felt like he could decimate an army like Percy did after he took the curse of Achilles. He felt like he could make an army, full of souls like Bryce Lawrence that were only souls because he wanted them to be, and that _terrified_ him. 

He tried not to use his powers too often. When he did, it felt like one wrong move would bring on an endless wave of darkness that he couldn’t get rid of. Of course, they showed up even when he didn’t want them to. When he got angry, the corners of the room would darken, not enough to be noticeable yet, thank the gods. One time, he was sitting in the shade and he sneezed and suddenly he was on the other side of Camp. In one particular instance, Nico was hiking in the woods and he fell and scraped his palms, and the grass wilted where his blood dripped. 

And that was the last straw. Nico marched to the Apollo cabin, phased through the door because that was something he _could_ do without incident, and collapsed on Will. 

“I killed the grass,” he mumbled, digging his face into Will’s neck. 

“I read in a medical textbook recently that the ears are the part of the body that hears things, not the neck,” Will replied. 

Oh, well. Okay. Nico positioned his mouth right next to Will’s ear. How mean was he feeling today? “I killed the grass,” he exclaimed, just a bit louder than he maybe should have. Will jumped and in an awkward series of events, the two found themselves on the ground. 

“Grass isn’t immortal,” Will pointed out. Which, yes, helpful. Thank you, Will. Nico’d been worried why his favorite blade of grass had vanished from next to his cabin last week. 

“Not like that.” Nico launched himself at Will. The two vanished into the shadow of his bunkbed. They reappeared in the woods, where Nico had fallen, and Will’s jaw dropped. 

The dead patch where Nico’s blood dropped had spread. Where only a few spots had withered and died before, now those spots of Death reached out toward each other, claiming any plant in their way. Will stuck his palm out at it and the clearing lit up with warm sunlight. The dead patches shivered and disintegrated, leaving only dirt. Well, that was one way to fix things. 

Will turned to Nico and pointed a stern finger and him and firmly ordered, “Training. _Now_.” 

Nico glanced at the dirt—a huge patch big enough he and will could both easily fit—and nodded. That was maybe a good idea.

**Author's Note:**

> it's 3am please tell me if there are typos cause my eyes are blurry right now and I'm thinking in colors


End file.
